


Hush

by alykapedia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Shower Sex, Viktor Gets a Good Dicking: The Fic, prayer circle for viktor's dick, probably????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 04:44:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10734369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alykapedia/pseuds/alykapedia
Summary: "I got you a gift." Yuuri says and Viktor has to physically stop himself from quipping,is it your dick?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> celebrating the anniversary of my birth with terrible and dumb porn. i'm so sorry, mom and dad. this is...technically done. I'm just posting it in three chunks bc I'm still making the next few parts...cleaner and more feasible or something idk HAHAHAHA 
> 
> dedicated to the tumblr crowd who saw a snippet of this first and who i may have fooled into thinking that this is a quality fic, when it fact, it is not
> 
> i am firmly on the 'bottom bitch yuuri' train, but viktor is a good boy and deserves a good dicking too

Okay, so.

Viktor doesn’t really expect Yuuri to go along with it.

Really, he doesn’t.

After all, he’d said it on a complete whim weeks and weeks ago during a lull in practice and Yuuri had not seemed enthused or very receptive to the idea back then, what with the embarrassed spluttering he’d done. So Viktor lets the idea fade away from thought, not the least bit disappointed because he’s not about to force Yuuri into doing something he’s uncomfortable with, and it’s not as if they’re severely lacking in sex acts they could still do. Thus, he forgets all about it and carries on with life.

That is, until he’s pleasantly reminded of the all-important fact that Yuuri Katsuki will always, always surprise him.

Today’s a Saturday, a rare rest day that Viktor takes full advantage of mostly by sleeping in and cuddling with Yuuri until morning bleeds into mid-morning and they have brunch in their pajamas, a Korean drama playing unheeded on their TV, the both of them too engrossed in each other to pay attention to it.

He’s all but ready to spend the rest of the day like this, wrapped around the man he loves in their shared home and making out until their lips are swollen. But by early afternoon, Yuuri pulls away with a sweet smile and a kiss to the tip of Viktor’s nose, citing something about having errands to run and murmuring _I won’t be long, Vitenka, I just need to take care of something_ , before he and Makkachin leave the apartment.

Which leaves Viktor to sort through their mail (mostly junk and a care package from Mama Katsuki) and do all the chores he’d put off doing for the past few days. It’s all so terribly domestic and Viktor finds himself humming happily as he loads the dishwasher, practically glowing at the sudden and unbidden thought of spending the rest of his life with Yuuri in a house by the sea. Maybe they could get another dog or—Viktor pauses, biting on his bottom lip because _think of all the miniature skating costumes!_

But no, he’s getting ahead of himself.

Far, far ahead.

Shaking his fringe away from his face, he takes a glance at the wall clock which informs him that almost an hour has passed and saunters to the bathroom for a shower. If he times it right, maybe Yuuri will catch him just as he’s stepping out and he can tempt his fiancé into bed and finally christen the new sheets he’d bought on a whim when Mila and Yurio had dragged him out to the mall.

The tiles are freezing when he steps inside the shower, and Viktor really wishes he hadn’t listened to Yakov about not getting heated flooring for his bathroom because it was an expense he would’ve gladly paid for. It’s times like this that he misses being in Hasetsu, because then Viktor wouldn’t be suffering from icy tiles because Hasetsu had _hot springs_.

Ah, well.

At least water heaters are a thing, Viktor muses as he lets the shower run, stripping his clothes off quickly and stuffing them unceremoniously into the hamper. When the glass partition is sufficiently fogged up from the water’s heat, he steps under the scalding spray of the water and sighs. He makes quick work of lathering up, careful to use just enough shampoo for his hair (because Mila had sent him an article that said using too much shampoo can lead to _hair loss_ and Viktor wasn’t taking any chances).

He’s in the middle of rinsing off when he hears the front door open and close, and it’s not long before Yuuri’s calling out, “Vitya?”

“In the bathroom, darling!” He yells back just as Yuuri peek inside, brown eyes widening behind blue frames. “ _Okaeri_.”

“ _Tadaima_.” Yuuri breathes out, gaze following the sluice of water down, down, down Viktor’s toned stomach, to the deep vee of his hips, and further down to the thick cock hanging heavily between his thighs.

Viktor preens at the weight of that gaze, cock filling even further when Yuuri’s tongue peeks out to lick at the swell of his bottom lip. “How was your errand?”

“Good. It was great.” Yuuri babbles, fumbling out of his glasses and clothes. He stumbles and almost falls flat on his face when he kicks off his underwear and Viktor has to bite off a giggle. “I asked Mila to take care of Makkachin tonight.”

Viktor lets out a moan, trembling at the implication. _Sorry, Makkachin_ , he thinks, not at all apologetic when Yuuri finally steps into the shower behind him, _Papa’s getting laid tonight_. “I did the dishes,” he offers breathlessly as Yuuri’s arms cinch around his waist and is rewarded with a smile pressed to his shoulder.

“Wow.”

“Hey, gorgeous,” Viktor murmurs, turning around and dragging the tip of his nose along the curve of Yuuri's cheek. 

Yuuri snorts, scrunching his nose up at Viktor who only grins wider. “I’m pretty sure that’s my line.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, lyubuv moya.” Giggling, Viktor leans forward to catch Yuuri’s lips in a sweet kiss, a promise for things to come. “I missed you,” and it’s ridiculous because it hasn’t even been that long since they last saw each other and it probably stinks of dependency issues, but Viktor could honestly care less.

Especially when Yuuri is pulling them closer together under the steady spray of the showerhead, dragging plush lips along Viktor’s jaw.

“I’m here now.”

As if to emphasize the point, Yuuri’s cock twitches where it’s pressed along Viktor’s hip, making the Russian purr in pleasure. The action has him pushing his aching cock against Yuuri’s stomach, beads of precum clinging stubbornly onto skin even with the steady stream of water cascading over them.

Still pressed together, Yuuri quickly washes up, Viktor content to drag his hands lazily over slippery skin and thumb teasingly at pink nipples. But as soon as Yuuri's done rinsing off, Viktor pulls him into an open-mouthed kiss that makes Yuuri let out a delighted gasp. He ends up echoing the gasp a few breaths later when Yuuri's hands squeeze at his ass, pulling the cheeks apart and exposing his hole to the spray of water. 

"Yuuri," Viktor gasps into Yuuri's mouth, knees trembling as a finger rubs insistently at the furl of his entrance. " _Yuuri_ ," he repeats, this time in a drawn-out whine and a bright red flush erupts on his skin, cascading from his cheeks to his chest. He feels overheated and suddenly empty, body hungry for what Yuuri's fingers are promising.

And Yuuri's fingers are promising a lot of _things_ that Viktor intends for his fiancé to make good on before the day is over. 

"Turn around."

The words taste like an order, like a command against his tongue and Viktor can do nothing but comply. He deftly flicks the shower off before bracing his arms against the wall, fingers already digging into the tiles as he arches his back, pushing his ass out and spreading his legs. Needy. Behind him, Yuuri lets out a string of Japanese under his breath that sounds absolutely dirty to Viktor's ears and he doesn't even bother stifling the moan that clamors out of his throat.

He sees Yuuri lean out of the shower stall to grab something from the sink out of the corner of his eyes, hears the clatter of plastic against glass, and finally feels the press of slick fingers on his sensitized rim. A lone finger slips in right to the knuckle and Viktor feels the breath punched out of him. Because it's been a while since he's taken Yuuri like _this_ , what with skating and their schedules being what they are, so he's just the slightest bit overwhelmed when it starts pumping in and out, stretching him for more. 

It's not long before one finger turns to two, until Yuuri is fucking him with three fingers and Viktor is moaning like a whore and sobbing whenever the fingers graze his prostate _just so_. Yuuri's such an unapologetic tease and Viktor both loves and hates it.

He's so hyperfocused on each and every slide of Yuuri's fingers against his clenching walls that when a hand closes in on his dripping and neglected cock, he shouts and almost comes right then and there if not for the sudden and almost painful grip around the base.

Yuuri giggles and it really shouldn't be as cute as Viktor thinks it is, especially when Yuuri has him speared open on his cruel, cruel fingers that refuse to touch where he wants them to touch—

"Yuuri," Viktor sobs just as Yuuri taps at his prostate—finally—making his cock drool precum onto the tiles. "Zolotse, _please_ ," he begs, utterly shameless, and Yuuri humors him with a clever twist of his fingers that has Viktor grinding back because it's so, so good.

It's always good, always perfect, when it comes to Yuuri. But it's not enough and Viktor is very abruptly and keenly aware of how long it's been since he's had Yuuri's thick and wonderful cock inside him and he's _ravenous_.

"I got you a gift." Yuuri says and Viktor has to physically stop himself from quipping, _is it your dick?_

Because Yuuri's fingers might stop their assault on his prostate and Viktor will actually cry if they do. So he just hums back non-committally and rides Yuuri's fingers. He feels tears prick at the corner of his eyes when Yuuri pulls his fingers out, hole clenching around nothing and he feels carved out at the loss. The hand on his cock pulls away to settle at his hip, giving him a gentle squeeze and then Viktor's hearing the click of their preferred bottle of lube. 

Fuck, yes.

He takes in a shuddering breath and readies himself for the blunt head of Yuuri's cock to press against his slick entrance.

But it doesn't come. Instead, there's something smooth and vaguely curved with a tapered tip sliding across the clenching heat of him. Something that is definitely _not_ Yuuri's cock. He hastily cranes his head to look down and _ohmygod_ —Viktor's brain screeches to a halt when his eyes fall on the black plug in Yuuri's hand. 

"Color?" Yuuri asks, catching Viktor's eyes with a cautious look on his face. He's chewing on his bottom lip and Viktor is struck with the urge to run his tongue over the abused, red flesh of it.

"Yes," Viktor blurts out before his mind can fully catch up, Yuuri quirking a smile at his outburst. "I mean, green," he babbles, trembling in Yuuri's hold because oh, _oh_ Yuuri always had to surprise him, didn't he? "Green. Very green. _Please_."

A smile spreads along the curve of Yuuri's lips that makes Viktor's heart stutter in his chest.

"You'll be good for me, won't you?" 

Viktor nods feverishly. Because he wants to be good, wants to be better than good for Yuuri who fills him with life and love, who blushes to his ears when they hold hands in public, who goes out and buys a damn butt plug all because Viktor had casually mentioned wanting to try it out. 

The tapered end slides inside him easily and Viktor steadies his arms back against the wall, back curving. It's thicker than he expects and he chokes on a moan when the broadest part slips in and stretches him wide, followed by the rest of it until Viktor feels the flared base rest securely against his perineum.

“Color?”

Letting out a strained laugh, Viktor looks over his shoulder and pronounces as steadily as he can, “still green.” Because there is no way that Viktor will stop this train now that it’s started; he is fully on board with whatever filthy thing Yuuri has in store for him.

“Good,” Yuuri hums before delivering a slap to Viktor’s ass, making him bite down on his tongue and clench tightly around the plug.

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor keens when Yuuri rubs at the area he’d slapped earlier, the warmth spreading across his skin and down to his straining cock. He’d thought that he couldn’t get any harder, but Yuuri pushes him to do the impossible, it seems.

“I got us a reservation at that Italian restaurant you like,” Yuuri begins conversationally, as if he hadn’t just broken Viktor open several times over, as if his hands aren’t now busy toying with Viktor’s nipples, as if he hadn’t just said that he’s about to take Viktor out to dinner while a thick black plug that rests just shy of his prostate splits him open. 

 _Oh god_.

A hand goes back around Viktor’s cock, tight and unforgiving and he sobs out a moan as it begins to stroke him into an incoherent mess. Yuuri sets a punishing pace, occasionally digging his thumb into the spot under the flared head that makes Viktor see stars in toe-curling pleasure.

“Yuuri,” Viktor warns when he feels the tightening in his stomach, but Yuuri only speeds up, flicking his wrist with every downward stroke.

“Go on, come for me.” Yuuri whispers, punctuating the command with a harsh bite on Viktor’s neck that gets him pulsing around the plug and coming with a ragged yell.

For a moment, all Viktor can hear is the violent drumbeat of his heart, interspersed with his uneven breathing. He sucks in a breath, forces his lungs to work properly again before whipping around to drag hungry eyes over Yuuri, licking his lips when his gaze falls on Yuuri’s arousal—flushed and hard and curving up to his stomach. There’s precum glistening at the tip and Viktor’s mouth waters at the sight. He makes a move to kneel down, ready to worship and taste, but Yuuri catches his elbow with a shake of his head.

“Later,” Yuuri grasps his jaw in a caress and pulls him up to his feet. “If you’re good.” 

Forget _good_ , Viktor is going to be _perfect_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Across the table, Yuuri smiles beatifically and then taps something on his phone that makes Viktor rattle because he can practically feel his teeth shake at the force of the harsh vibrations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter features a bunch of personal headcanons e.g. viktor being adopted by an army of babushkas, yuuri being conversant in italian, etc. (also re: the italian thing, let's all suspend disbelief that viktor doesn't speak it and i spent so much time at google translate comparing french and italian and I AM SORRY)
> 
> also feat. viktor's foot thing. it just. kinda happened.
> 
> (edit: Italian edit!! Thank you so much to sybilvane and GwenChan! (i have no idea how to do links here omg im sorry but thank you guys!!))

_Cara Mia_  used to be a quaint little hole-in-the-wall that Viktor discovered when he was fourteen and smarting from a failed attempt at a quad. He still remembers ducking inside the dimly lit diner and eating his weight in freshly-made gnocchi, while the owner's granddaughters fawned at his hair as if it was yesterday. (He also remembers the suicide runs Yakov made him do when he found out Viktor had been piling on carbs like he's planning to hibernate for the coming winter.) 

Fourteen years later, _Cara Mia_ and Viktor are far, far away from their humble beginnings. The little trattoria that only a handful of loyal customers knew about now has its own spread on a gourmet magazine and a BuzzFeed listicle singing its praises. And of course, Viktor is no longer the waif-like creature he had been at fourteen, but a figure skating legend with more gold medals than he knows what to do with and happily engaged to the most beautiful man in the world. 

The most beautiful man in the world who's currently fiddling with his phone and torturing Viktor with barely-there vibrations. 

He shifts on his seat and the plug—the vibrating plug that's shaking Viktor to his very core—jostles, sending a concentrated fissure of heat against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside him. Viktor very nearly cries when the vibrations suddenly cut off.

Across the table, Yuuri smiles beatifically and then taps something on his phone that makes Viktor rattle because he can practically feel his teeth shake at the force of the harsh vibrations. They last for half a ragged breath before petering out to a steady hum interspersed with spine-tingling pulses at random intervals that's driving Viktor insane, and if the self-satisfied lilt in his beautiful fiancé’s smile is of any indication, Yuuri knows it.

"Vitya!"

A familiar voice booms from somewhere behind him and Viktor jumps in his seat. He almost bites down on his tongue when the plug sinks deeper inside, sending a random flurry of vibrations through him. He looks over his shoulder to see _Cara Mia's_ owner, Giada Rossi, heading towards them with a large smile on her face. Viktor manages a shaky grin when she stops in front of their table, giving him a pat on the shoulder before turning her eyes to Yuuri, who visibly stiffens under the weight of her stare. He's about to say something to diffuse the tension and maybe get Giada's attention back to him, even though he doesn't quite trust his voice not to give away what was happening in his pants, but she beats him to it and lets out a deep, belly laugh. 

"And this must be your banquet boy!" She says and Yuuri raises an eyebrow and mouths _banquet boy_ at him, before turning his attention to Giada who's holding out a hand in introduction. "Giada Rossi.”

Yuuri looks suitably bemused and Viktor is torn between interfering and keeping quiet as the plug continues to pulse inside him. It's a small wonder how no one's commented on how flushed he is yet.

"Yuuri Katsuki," Yuuri smiles, taking the proffered hand and Viktor lets out a sigh of relief at that. As well as for the fact that he just saw Yuuri swipe something on his phone that makes the random pulses of harsh vibrations disappear, replaced with a steady hum that's just a tad bit stronger than the first one. 

When he tunes back in to his surroundings, he hears Giada talking about him rapidly in her accented English.

"—would not stop talking about you," she says and Viktor lets out an affronted noise that Giada snorts at. "He used to come here and cry, _oh, Giada. He is so beautiful and I am so very in love_." She continues in a thick Russian accent that Viktor belatedly realizes is her mimicking him.

He's so busy fuming—because he does _not_ sound like that—that he almost misses Yuuri's soft laughter and his equally soft, " _veramente?_ "

Viktor startles, heart lodging in his throat because Yuuri just spoke in Italian. Or at least, Viktor assumes he did, what with the pleasantly surprised expression on Giada's face that he's sure mirrors his own. Except his probably looks more lovesick.

Yuuri speaks Italian. _His Yuuri_ speaks Italian. Because of course he does; he trained under Celestino after all, and Viktor feels silly for not considering it in the first place since he knows for a fact Yuuri can hold a conversation in Thai thanks to Phichit, and Yuuri can speak Russian well enough to talk to Lilia about ballet. 

" _P_ _arli Italiano?_ "

The inflection tells Viktor that Giada's just asked a question and he inwardly curses the fact that he never truly learned Italian. Sure, he knows common words and phrases, knows the rough translation for his own FS music. He'd trusted his knowledge in French to get him through Italian and now he's paying dearly for it. 

Yuuri shrugs. " _Un poco_ ," he replies meekly, pinching his thumb and forefinger together and Viktor at least knows that the current exchange has something to do with Yuuri's ability to speak the language. Probably. 

" _Prenditi cura di lui."_

" _Lo farò_." Yuuri nods, looking far too serious for Viktor's tastes.

So he steels himself, hopes that his voice won't break like he's some pubescent boy and says, "whatever she's saying, it's not true." He reaches over the table and covers Yuuri's hand with his own and gives it a comforting squeeze. 

"This one knows French but can't be bothered to learn Italian. Are you sure you want to marry him?"

Yuuri gives him a look absolutely drenched in naked affection and laces their fingers together, their matching rings glinting in the candlelight. " _Non sono mai stato più sicuro_ ," he says, and Viktor has absolutely no idea what it means but it sounds like _yes_ and _I love you_ and it makes his heart do little pirouettes inside his chest. 

"I like this one. Keep him." Giada finally says, leveling Viktor with a proud smile because she's seen him alone and lost for the longest time, and it's always so satisfying when other people see how good Yuuri is to him, _for him._

"I intend to."

Giada nods, "I will cook your meal myself. You two just sit tight and let Giada feed you, si?" And then she's bustling away, humming a happy little tune as she does so. Viktor watches as she ducks down into the kitchen before turning back to Yuuri with a helpless smile.

"Sorry about that," he murmurs, "I swear, she still treats me like I'm fourteen."

Yuuri shrugs with an easy grace, smile firmly on his lips. "She cares about you." 

Chewing on his bottom lip, a habit that he’d unfortunately caught from watching Yuuri do the same, day in and day out, Viktor asks, "did she just give you the shovel talk? What did she say?"

"She told me to take care of you, and I said I would."

Yuuri says the words matter-of-factly, as if it’s a given that Yuuri would and Viktor knows it too. Deep in his very bones, Viktor knows that Yuuri will care for him and that he will care for Yuuri in turn. This is how Viktor’s world works now: fueled solely by a love that nurtures and sustains, a love given to him by the man sitting in front of him.

"What was the other thing you said? When she asked if you were sure that you wanted to marry me?"

A blush spreads like wildfire on Yuuri’s face, and Viktor can only watch, transfixed as always, when Yuuri mumbles out, "I told her that I've never been surer about anything in my life."

"I love you,” he says, heart stuttering inside his chest.

“I love you too.”

The exchange leaves Viktor feeling lighter than air, satisfaction filling him with elation. And Yuuri too looks buoyed by it, brown eyes twinkling in the candlelight. Never in all his years did Viktor ever think he’d actually be staring dopily into someone’s eyes over candlelight, fingers laced together on top of the rich tablecloth. It’s the sort of thing he used to poke fun at Georgi for and look at him now.

Dinner proceeds normally once their food starts arriving and Viktor can already feel all the additional crunches and push-ups they’ll have to do as he surveys the tempting spread their waiter lays out. Giada had predictably outdone herself and honestly, after months of adhering to a nutritionist-approved diet, even Viktor’s not immune to good food. Especially not to Cara Mia’s brown butter and sage gnocchi.

“Oh, you have to try the gnocchi.” Viktor’s already spearing one of the perfect dumplings and offering the fork to Yuuri who obligingly opens his mouth and lets Viktor feed him. “Good?”

The widening of Yuur’s eyes is enough of an answer. “It’s so…” Yuuri trails off, licking his lips as if to catch more of the flavor. “Fluffy.”

“Once, when I was fourteen, I ate five servings in one day.”

“Five servings?” Yuuri echoes incredulously, blinking at him behind his glasses before laughing at the bright smile on Viktor’s face. “Yakov must have been so mad.”

“He was furious.” It had been one of the few times that Viktor had actually been cowed by Yakov’s yelling. “He made me do suicide runs for the entire morning and then made me practice figures with Lilia for the rest of the day.” Lilia too, had been unsympathetic to his plight, although she did let him off earlier, muttering about how she refused to subject herself to more of his terrible form.

Yuuri giggles, a bright and happy thing that warms Viktor to the very tips of his toes.

Like this, Viktor can easily pretend that they’re just having a normal dinner at his favorite restaurant, can almost ignore the faint hum of the vibrator buzzing inside him, and can almost, almost disregard the steady simmer of arousal trickling honey sweet and slow underneath his skin.

That is, until Yuuri starts _talking_.

Let it be known to the world that Yuuri Katsuki, Japan’s Ace Skater and future Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov, is a dirty talker of epic proportions. It’s something of a surprise, another proof that Yuuri is indeed the gift that keeps on giving, and Viktor remembers finishing embarrassingly early the first time Yuuri—his sweet, virginal Yuuri, as pure as the driven snow—babbled and sobbed utter and complete filth into his ear.

Viktor’s only thankful that Yuuri waited until the end of the second course to start ruining him with words alone.

“You’re doing so well for me,” Yuuri croons, voice sultry and low that Viktor almost drops his fork. “I can’t wait to take you home and take you apart,” he says and Viktor honest-to-god whimpers deep in his throat.

It’s not even the filthiest thing Viktor’s heard come out from that sinful, sinful mouth but something about the way Yuuri says it, a quiet sort of possessiveness that hollows out his stomach and fills it with liquid heat, drives him ever closer to the edge of control.

A soft moan escapes his lips, an unbidden reaction that he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to. Except that he should have. Because Yuuri’s looking at him with a raised eyebrow and Viktor is supposed to be good, supposed to be perfect. He shouldn’t be making any inappropriate noises in public. Not if he wants to be Yuuri’s good boy.

And Viktor very much wants to be Yuuri’s good boy.

Apologies lodge in his throat, held back only by the fact that Viktor doesn’t quite trust his voice right now. Doesn’t quite trust it not to break and make the situation worse, especially when the low hum of the vibrator is replaced by damning bursts of sensation pressed right against his prostate, lasting for five heart-racing beats before petering out once again.

“I’m not mad,” Yuuri says, a benevolent god that Viktor will worship forevermore. “But you shouldn’t be too loud,” he says in a whisper that feels like a caress on Viktor’s flushed skin. “Unless you want everyone else to hear.”

“No,” pushes itself out of Viktor’s lips in a shuddery whine, desperate and breathless because he’s been _Viktor Nikiforov, Living Legend_ for the longest time. He’s been everyone’s and yet no one’s. And now, now Viktor only wants to be Yuuri’s and no one else’s. “Just you. Only yours.”

Yuuri’s face gentles, softens, a split-second change in demeanor that Viktor should be more than used to at this point, but still isn’t.

“ _Can you take a bit more?_ ” Yuuri asks softly in Japanese, and Viktor would be a filthy, filthy liar if he said that that didn’t make him impossibly harder. “ _I want you to come just like this, Vitenka_.” He says, voice sweet, with an edge of something darker that makes Viktor want to bare his neck in response.

Viktor smothers the pitiful whine tickling his throat, tamps down on the urge to say no, because he wants _moremoremore_ , wants Yuuri to spread him open and give it to him hard and fast.

“ _Can you do that for me, darling?_ ”

He manages a sluggish nod, eyes fluttering shut at a particularly strong vibration. And Yuuri must have somehow changed the settings again, because the vibrations quickly become intense, barely giving him any time to breathe and gather himself. Gone is the benign hum that got him through most of dinner, replaced with wave after wave of intense pleasure that has him leaking inside his pants, cock hard and aching for blessed release.

Bright blue eyes snap open when what could only be Yuuri’s foot presses between Viktor’s spread legs. It traces up the hard line of his cock and Viktor tastes blood, the disbelief that Yuuri would attempt something like _this_ drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears. He barely manages to keep from panting like a dog as his body tries to deal with the additional stimulation, hips thrusting minutely in an attempt to chase after the orgasm that looms ever closer.

“ _Now, Vitenka_ ,” Yuuri says, commands, as his heel digs almost painfully underneath Viktor’s balls, the arch of his foot rubbing insistently along Viktor’s shaft just as the vibrator gives him one last harsh pulse before going dormant. “ _Come._ ”

And Viktor does.

He comes with a sigh, color high on his cheeks. The tension that had pulled him taut earlier bleeds out as he spills inside his pants, just in time for their waiter to arrive with dessert: two decadent slices of tiramisu.

“Yuuri, no” he scolds breathily, because they’re supposed to be on a diet, and even in his post-orgasmic haze, Viktor tries to cling to the image of a responsible coach, even though no responsible coach would ever let their student stick a vibrator in them, but well, most responsible coaches aren’t engaged to their students, so there’s really no precedent for this. He’s still tingling with the force of his orgasm so the disapproving look he affords Yuuri when his darling fiancé immediately goes for a slice probably doesn’t even register on his slack face. “ _Yuuri_.”

“I thought you deserved a reward,” Yuuri says sweetly as his fork sinks through the layers of cream and ladyfingers. “After all, you’ve been a very good boy.”

Viktor appreciates the thought but there’s really only one reward he deserves and it sure as hell isn’t cake. Still, Viktor’s not going to say not to Yuuri feeding him. He’s not an idiot. So he parts his lips for Yuuri’s cake-laden fork and swallows down bitter espresso and sweet cream with a small hum.   

“ _Vkusno_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the uh, plug/vibe used here is called hush (hence, the title) and it is srsly the inspiration for this entire fic bc it's like, being marketed as 'the most powerful vibrating butt plug' and go check it out you guys hHAHAHA


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor gets his reward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Hint: It's Yuuri's dick.)
> 
> Ehh, probably not what people expect, but I have to go back to studying now and I am so, so sick of looking at this and trying to write sex omg. Sorry if this is disappointing, but I tried guys and I've run out of steam.
> 
> Writing this made me realize that I am not cut out for very long sex scenes HAHAHAHAHA jfc i'm gonna leave the smut to the pros now.

The trip back to their apartment goes by in a blur and Viktor barely remembers any of it; one moment he's saying his goodbyes to Giada, the next he's being pinned to their bedroom door with lips and teeth and tongue.

"Yuuri," Viktor mewls, chest heaving as he watches Yuuri slide down to his knees, looking up at him with a smirk that makes his cock give a valiant twitch inside his soiled pants. "Solnyshko, please," he begs when Yuuri starts to leisurely undo his pants, sliding his belt out of the loops in one fluid motion.

The gasps and moans he'd bitten off back at the restaurant now spill freely from his lips, a lewd soundtrack accompanying the clatter of the belt against the carpeted floor and the sound of a zipper being pulled down.

"Look at you." Yuuri breathes out and Viktor's pants are pulled down to his knees, Yuuri leaning close enough that Viktor can feel his hot breath against the sticky dampness of his underwear. Before he knows it, Yuuri is mouthing at Viktor's increasingly interested cock, mouth wide as his plush lips drag along the length of it, pulling Viktor's soiled underwear down as he does so. Viktor's a mess; tacky come coating his half-hard cock and the inside of his thighs, and it would feel awkward and uncomfortable if not for the way Yuuri is looking at him like a man starved. "Don't move, I'm going to clean you up."

Viktor moans, head falling back against the door with a soft thump.

The first touch of Yuuri's slick mouth on his sensitive glans is a revelation in and of itself, and Viktor's cry is a thin and reedy thing as Yuuri proceeds to clean him up. He suckles briefly at the tip, hands coming up to settle on Viktor's hips as he laps up the come with broad strokes of his tongue. It's taking all of Viktor's self-control to stay still. Every touch teases at him, muscles trembling in effort not to chase after Yuuri’s lips and tongue. Especially when Yuuri takes him into his mouth as easy as breathing, head bobbing once, twice, slurping him down with a moan.

When Yuuri pulls away, mouth glistening red from saliva and Viktor’s come, he goes and lets out the most self-satisfied sigh Viktor has ever heard come out of anyone. It’s a sound that goes straight to his dick because Viktor is unapologetically hot for everything Yuuri Katsuki does. Who wouldn’t be? Yuuri leans back in again, and Viktor’s about to dissuade him but then Yuuri ducks his head lower, and makes good on his promise about cleaning Viktor up.

"Take your clothes off and get on the bed, Vitya." Yuuri rasps after he’s licked the mess off of Viktor’s thighs and sucked bruises onto the thin skin of his hip. "Don’t touch yourself.”

Legs clumsy like a newborn foal's, Viktor stumbles towards the bed, divesting himself of his clothes along the way. The presence of the plug inside him comes back to the forefront of his mind with a vengeance when he sits down, the plug digging into his prostate insistently. He powers through the sensation and leans back against the mountain of pillows propped haphazardly by the headboard, pulling his knees up and letting them fall to the sides. Like this, Viktor can see the base of the plug, can see where it splits him open and ready for Yuuri's cock. And Yuuri obviously appreciates the view, if the loud and empathic _fuck_ he lets out is of any indication. 

He doesn’t have to wait long until Yuuri is joining him, naked and kneeling in front of his legs. "You're so lovely," Yuuri says reverently and Viktor feels a torrid flush erupt on his cheeks at the praise. And it's so ridiculous because he's shamelessly splayed himself open on the bed, legs spread, hole twitching and hungry for more than a plug and now he's blushing because Yuuri called him _lovely_. 

A calloused hand slides up his thigh, stopping on the sensitive underside of his knee and Viktor’s breath hitches. Yuuri gives his knee a comforting squeeze before his fingers trail down to Viktor’s ass, circling the base of the plug.

“I think it’s time to take this out, don’t you?”

Viktor cannot agree more, nodding frantically when he feels Yuuri wrap his fingers around the base of the plug. “Yes, yes, oh god, please—“

Yuuri’s gentle when he pulls the plug out but a moans strangles itself out of Viktor anyway when the widest part slips out with a wet squelch.

He feels empty, bereft, and Viktor whimpers at the loss.

“Oh, _Vitya_ ,” Yuuri exhales, eyes drawn to the way Viktor’s hole clenches around nothing.

“Yuuri, Yuuri please, I want it.”

“What do you want, darling? You want my fingers?” Yuuri asks, blinking deceptively innocent eyes up at Viktor as he traces the rim of Viktor's puffy entrance. With tears in his eyes, Viktor shakes his head _no_. "Do you want my mouth, then?" Yuuri bends down, breath ghosting over Viktor's straining erection and down over his balls, until his mouth is centimeters away from where Viktor is needy and wanting. "Do you want me to fuck you with my tongue?"

Viktor stumbles on the _no_ resting on his tongue, because _fuck_ , he wants Yuuri's mouth on him, in him, loves the feeling of being sloppily eaten out, but—

" _No_ ," he chokes out when he finally manages to find his voice. "Want your cock. Please, Yuuri. I earned it."

Yuuri hums as he slicks himself up with the tube of lube he’d somehow procured out of thin air, Viktor watching with hungry eyes. "You _were_ very good, weren't you?" He muses aloud before lining himself up to Viktor's entrance, the tip of his cock kissing the furled rim. "My perfect boy,” Yuuri croons, and then he’s sinking inside, Viktor’s walls rippling to accommodate his girth. Because Yuuri was thicker than the toy, filling Viktor to the brim and rubbing against him so perfectly.

For a brief moment, Viktor’s world narrows down to his own heartbeat and the fullness that threatens to make him burst with pure, unadulterated pleasure. It’s a fleeting reprieve, Yuuri stilling for half a ragged breath to let Viktor suck in desperate lungfuls of air, before Yuuri is snapping his hips, driving into Viktor with the single-minded purpose of making him come for the third time today.

There’s nothing soft or gentle about their lovemaking, and Viktor is living for it. Yuuri has him practically bent in half, knees haphazardly slung over a shoulder and a hip, as he thrusts hard enough to rattle the headboard. It’s the kind of deep and satisfying fuck that burns calories, and it scratches an itch that Viktor’s had ever since Yuuri stepped into the shower behind him.

“Viktor,” Yuuri pants, sounding and looking just as wrecked as Viktor feels. There’s a seemingly permanent flush on his skin and his bottom lip is a bright red beacon that Viktor leans up to taste, even though his back protests at the stretch.  

“You feel so good, Yuuri, _so thick_ ,” he slurs, squeezing around Yuuri as if in demonstration. “I want you to _ruin me._ ”

Yuuri is nothing but obliging, even when it comes to Viktor’s most ridiculous requests, so he’s already bracing himself for the onslaught to come. And Viktor isn’t disappointed; Yuuri’s thrusts turning just a tad bit savage, cock pounding into Viktor in a way that he’s going to be feeling for the days to come.

Tears are leaking out of the corner of Viktor’s eyes, overwhelmed because it’s almost too much and yet still not enough. He wants Yuuri deeper inside. Wants Yuuri to just stay inside him for the foreseeable future. Wants Yuuri to fill him up with his seed until he’s overflowing with it, stick the plug back in to keep him wet and open so that Yuuri can just slide back in whenever he wants to—

“ _God, Vitya_!”

Hips stuttering, Yuuri wheezes, choking as he stares down at Viktor with pupils blown wide, and _oh, oh, Viktor must have said it all out loud_ — “I want it,” he insists, luxuriating in the feeling of Yuuri’s cock twitching inside him at the admission. “I’d thought of doing it to you too, of course,” during long flights and lonely nights away from each other, Viktor’s brain taking a nosedive into the gutter, never to be seen again. “I’d just keep you in my bed, pumped full of my co— _ah, ah_ — _mmph!_ ”

Lips push insistently against his, swallowing down his moans and Viktor gives himself to it. Yuuri kisses like he fucks, spine-tingling and rough, with an undercurrent of sweetness that never quite disappears, even when he’s trying to pound Viktor into the mattress. Viktor pulls away regretfully to take a greedy breath, leaving Yuuri to pepper open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, and down to his neck, nipping and sucking marks that everyone at the rink would see.

“Yuuri,” Viktor sobs, tugging insistently at thick, dark hair. There’s that familiar heat, that familiar tightness forming in his stomach. It’s like he’s a string pulled taut, close to breaking. He’s close, so close and god, he wants to come, but only if Yuuri tells him to. “Yuuri, _Yuuri_ ,” he sucks Yuuri’s bottom lip back into his mouth, breath hitching in a tell-tale sign of his impending orgasm.

“Go on,” Yuuri urges, pressing even closer so that every roll of his hips rubs Viktor’s leaking cock between their stomachs. Viktor cries, openly sobbing now, and he manages to last through Yuuri’s quiet, “come for me, beautiful,” before he’s coming hard and Viktor’s never been more glad for sound-proof walls. His orgasm rips through him violently, cock pulsing between their stomachs and painting Viktor’s chest and Yuuri’s stomach with thick ropes of come.

Yuuri fucks him through it, hips never faltering and _oh_ , his back is going to kill him tomorrow, Viktor knows, but it doesn't stop him from wrapping sluggish limbs around Yuuri, and gasping for _more, harder, and faster._ "I want it," Viktor sobs, oversensitized and halfway delirious with it. "Come inside. I want everything you have, zolotse, fill me up."

Yuuri drives into him once, twice, a half dozen more times before he's spilling inside, flooding Viktor's insides with his seed with a small cry. Viktor keens at the sensation, the hot splash a phantom orgasm that ripples through him deliciously.

 

.

 

Viktor must have blacked out for a bit, because when he comes to, he’s been cleaned up and tucked under the covers, Yuuri beside him, running gentle fingers through his hair.

“Yuuri?”

“Hey,” Yuuri greets, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Are you alright?” He asks with a rueful smile and a blush that spreads slowly on his cheeks. “You uh, kinda blacked out for a bit there.”

“I’m good,” Viktor says, shifting so that his chin is resting on Yuuri’s chest. “You were very, very good after all.” He waggles his eyebrows and is rewarded by Yuuri covering his face with his hands, embarrassed beyond belief, as if he hadn’t just given Viktor an orgasm so good that he actually blacked out.

It takes several tries but Viktor eventually manages to pull Yuuri’s hands away. “You’re terrible.” Yuuri informs him, pouting and Viktor laughs, squishing Yuuri’s face.  

“Me? I’m not the one who stuck a vibrator inside someone and took them out to dinner,” Viktor points out with a grin, prompting another embarrassed whine from Yuuri.

“I can’t believe we did that.”

Viktor can’t believe Yuuri did it either; kissing in public is one thing, and well, semi-public sex is another, and Viktor never thought Yuuri would initiate something like that of his own volition. “I liked it.”

“It wasn’t too much?” Yuuri asks, worry lacing each word, and god, Viktor loves him so much.

Huffing out a laugh, Viktor shakes his head. “No, darling, it wasn’t. It was perfect.” He rubs his nose against Yuuri’s with a giggle. “Thank you for indulging me.”

Now, it’s Yuuri’s turn to huff. “Yeah, well, it’s not like it was that big of a hardship. I like doing things for you.”

“And you like doing me too.”

“ _Ohmygod_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am a sappy piece of shit and i'm so sorry/
> 
> thank you for making it this far and i hope this was enjoyable at least??? 
> 
> /rolls away

**Author's Note:**

> id like to say im sorry, but im really not and this stupid fic is such self-indulgent bullshit i cannot believe i wrote it


End file.
